


A French Thing

by lenapinewoods



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 12:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenapinewoods/pseuds/lenapinewoods
Summary: Hermione reminds Minerva of someone she met a long ago. Femmeslash, time travel.





	A French Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).



> Written for the [rarepair_shorts](https://rarepair-shorts.livejournal.com/) Summer Wishlist event 2017. I want to give my thanks to [kiertorata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata) for being my beta again! Also, if you haven’t already, please go Google young Maggie Smith because Minerva McGonagall as a young lady is like the hottest thing ever. Hope you enjoy!

When Hermione Granger was finishing her sixth year of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something awfully familiar about the girl. Something she hadn’t noticed before, something that – she suspected – had to do with the fact that Hermione had grown quite a lot during the last year. It took Minerva days to understand it but then she remembered. Hermione reminded her of someone she had met a long ago, someone she had spent quite an unforgettable night with. She could remember wrong, of course – it had been such a long time since it happened. 

It had been one of those parties her mother had forced her to go to. “Just give it a chance, you might actually have fun. Who knows, you could even meet someone,” she had said with a knowing wink. Unfortunately, seventeen-year-old Minerva knew exactly whom she would meet: those mentally challenged Rudolf sisters who wouldn’t talk about anything else but the latest gossip and that blockhead Jacob Dunder who just wasn’t able to leave her alone. As usual, she was right; she had barely walked through the door when she saw Jacob approaching her, face warped into a slimy smile. Seeking escape, her eyes caught a lost looking girl on the other side of the room. She was sure she had never seen the girl before; the girl had bushy hair and scared-looking eyes, and she was wearing a weird, black cloak that didn’t seem appropriate for a party. Minerva didn’t care about that, though – anyone was better than the idiotic Jacob Dunder. And she was actually a little curious about the girl. 

“I just saw my friend, I can’t talk to you right now,” Minerva blurted, when Jacob opened his mouth to say something she expected to be both dumb and uninteresting. She turned her back to Jacob and walked briskly to the bushy haired girl. The girl looked a little startled to see her coming but didn’t try to run away. Minerva took her by the arm and leaned in to whisper in her ear: “Walk with me, just play along.” The girl seemed a little unsure but nodded anyway, and let Minerva lead her out of the room. 

They stepped out in the big garden which was empty, probably because the night was still young and all the guests were drinking and dancing inside. It must have been August; the night was still warm but velvety dark and the air was heavy with the sweet smell of late-summer flowers. They walked further into the bushes until Minerva felt like they were far enough from the house. Even though it had been over forty years, she still remembered quite clearly how their conversation had started. 

“Sorry about that – I just needed to get away from that self-righteous diot. He’s been chasing after me for months and he just doesn’t seem to comprehend that I. Am. Not. Interested,” Minerva said, emphasizing the last four words. “I would rather date a squirrel than him. I bet a squirrel would at least have some brain activity.”

“I understand – I had a similar kind of situation last Christmas,” the girl said, looking still a little uneasy. 

“I hate these parties, anyway. I only came because my mum made me,” Minerva continued. “What about you? And who are you – I don’t think we’ve met, have we?” 

“Probably not. My name is, umm, Jean. Jeanie. And this is actually the first time I am in one of these parties. I, uh, my mum made me come, too.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jeanie. I’m Minnie,” Minerva said. “It’s funny we haven’t met, though. I mean, you must go to Hogwarts, right? You’d think we’d met there. What house are you in?” 

“Umm, actually, I go to Beauxbatons. My parents sent me there.” 

“Oh, right, that explains it.” 

Minerva sat down on the ground but Jeanie remained standing. She glanced around nervously and bit her lip. 

“I think I should go,” Jeanie said, hesitantly. 

“Oh no! Stay for a while. I want to hear about Beauxbatons. I’ve always wanted to go to France,” Minerva grabbed her hand and tried to pull her down next to her. “Come on, stay for a while. I’m sure you won’t find anyone more interesting to talk to at the party than me,” she smirked.

Jeanie smiled. “Fine, I’ll stay. But only for a while.” She sat down, so close to Minerva that she could feel her arm press against hers. And at that moment she realized that she was still holding her hand. 

Minerva couldn’t quite remember what had happened next – they probably kept talking, Jeanie had most likely told her something about her school or about how it was like, living in France, and she had told her about Hogwarts and about the four houses and how she actually had more friends in Ravenclaw than in her own house. And they had laughed about something and she remembered that she had found Jeanie really nice and thought that she was very clever and quite pretty, too. And then, somehow, they had stopped talking and they had just looked at each other for a moment and then she had leaned forward, without thinking further, so close that their lips were almost touching. She remembered she had heard Jeanie gasp a little and had felt her breath against her lips. Jeanie hadn’t moved away, so Minerva had slowly leaned in and pressed her lips against hers. Minerva remembered how eagerly Jeanie had answered to her kiss and how she had led her hands sink in the other girl’s curls. 

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Jeanie breathed, as Minerva gently pushed her on her back and pinned her against the ground.

“And how do you like it?” Minerva smirked. 

“Mmhm,” Jeanie mumbled, mouth against Minerva’s. “I – uh, oh God,” she gasped, as Minerva moved her lips down her neck and let her right hand wander up Jeanie’s thigh. Her leg was bare under her cloak. Their hands found their way under each other’s clothes, discovering and slowly revealing one another’s bodies. 

“Your underwear’s funny,” Minerva noted, when they had taken off their cloaks. The other girl wasn’t wearing a bullet bra, like Minerva, and _all the girls_ were. And the waistline of Jeanie’s knickers was so low she could see her hipbones. “But it’s very pretty,” Minerva hurried to say, worried that she might’ve offended Jeanie. “Is that a French thing or something?” 

Jeanie grinned. “Yeah, it’s definitely a French thing,” she said. “Your underwear is _beautiful_ , though.” 

Minerva remembered how Jeanie had leaned closer, touched Minerva’s lace covered, pointed breasts and let her hands slide down Minerva’s body, caressing her waist and making her way down towards the hips. They found themselves entangled in a steamy embrace, tearing off each other’s underwear, gasping for air in between everlasting kisses. Jeanie’s bare skin had felt hot and arousing against Minerva’s, and her fingers divine as they moved against her, rubbing her with an accelerating speed, closer and closer to ecstasy. And she remembered Jeanie’s eyes when they had met hers; they had been deep and dark and hungry for her touch. 

Minerva couldn’t say how long they had been there discovering each other’s bodies, lost a in haze of pleasure and intimacy. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was how Jeanie had laid her curly head down on her shoulder and closed her eyes. She remembered thinking that she had just had the most erotic night of her young life.

When Minerva woke up, Jeanie was gone. She didn’t know what time it was but there was a faint light in the horizon so it must’ve been a very early hour of the morning. She knew it had still been dark when they had fallen asleep.

She never saw Jeanie again – she figured Jeanie had probably got scared because of what they had done and ran away. That hardly mattered, though; now she knew she liked girls too, she suddenly had so many more options available. 

…

Hermione swore she would never tell anyone about what had happened that time she had found an old Time-Turner in the Room of Requierement and tried to fix it on her own. Nobody needed to know anyway; she had only been away for one night. And she had followed all the instructions Professor McGonagall had given her in case of accidents like these, when Hermione had received the Time-Turner three years ago. Hermione hadn’t told anyone her real identity, she hadn’t told anyone she came from the future and, well, okay, she had tried to not interact with people but it wasn’t like she had a choice, really. Fine, she may have interacted with one person a little more than was necessary but what was the worst thing that resulted as a consequence? A stranger in the ‘50s realizing she was gay? And Hermione realizing she didn’t mind getting intimate with girls? Hermione ending up having mindblowing sex with someone who – if she was still alive – would now be old enough to be her grandmother? 

Yeah, there was definitely no need to tell anyone.


End file.
